


Sixteen Floors

by genop0ke



Series: OC Mutual Killings [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Non-Canon Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2246469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genop0ke/pseuds/genop0ke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a bit of a twist on the OC Mutual Killing type of setting. </p><p>-</p><p>Sixteen students wake up trapped on the top, sixteenth floor of a hotel.</p><p>Only one will make it to the bottom.</p><p>(Note: All accents are based off of real foreign accents, so they're not intended to be offensive or stereotypical!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sixteen Floors

  In the beginning, there was war.

  Endless warring for a lost cause, for a lost hope. Upon losing hope, the ones involved in this war fell into a deep pit of pure despair. This sparked the beginning of a twisted organization, known under many titles, often ending in Despair. A group of corrupted human beings who sought to bring the world to its knees, throwing it into a chaotic time of anguish and agony. This would be how the world ended, seemingly to never be whole again. 

  In Japan, schools and large buildings were taken over by Super High School Level Despair, transformed into 'Mutual Killings'. America had Ultimate Despair, trapping neighborhoods and parks under a large barrier and forcing the current visitors to murder each other. Europe's division, Elite Despair, captured hotels and mansions and trapped hand-picked, talented beacons of hope inside, where only a handful or even one or two would survive.

  This leads up to what was soon to happen in a large hotel taken captive by the organization, sixteen talented people drawn to become a part of a deadly game.

  The Hotel Royale.

* * *

  Lily Goode never remembered anything between when she set foot through the doors of the hotel and when she woke up, laying in bed in a room on the sixteenth floor. All she really remembered was being chosen in a raffle known as the Elite Lottery, now known by the talent of Elite Good Luck. She did seem to have a remarkable gift in luck, finding four leaf clovers in the grass and large sums of money laying in the cracks of sidewalks as she walked between her humble home and school each day. But that was mostly irrelevant for the moment. 

  Lily was a quite average English girl, aside from her luck. Her hair was a pale blonde color, tied back in a large ponytail with a single golden cowlick sticking up out of the plume. It was just barely darker than her light skin, contrasting with wide, deep blue eyes. Her attire was a simple outfit: a green and white hoodie with a four-leaf clover embroidered on the back, skinny jeans, some black shoes. 

  Overall, she was pretty 'normal', in a sense. Everything seemed average so far, after venturing out of her hotel room. The room was old and decrepit, rotting and smelling strongly of mold and mildew. At least the hall was nice, full of nobody but her and being  _one hundred percent **normal.**_

  This was exactly why meeting one of the Power Rangers was the last thing she was expecting to do today.

  She stared at the person standing before her. Was this kid in a Power Rangers outfit? "My word... you are quite a ridiculous little fellow, aren't you?" Lily muttered, putting a hand over her mouth in slight shock at the buffoon standing before her. Well, they did look like one of those iconic masked people. Somewhat. Their mask was silver, having a design on the sides similar to a bird's wings. The jumpsuit they were in was very tight, letting every contour of the slightly chubby person be visible, also a shiny silver color. Not a single noise escaped the odd suit the other was wearing, but they jumped, scrambled around a bit, then stood erect with a salute in a comical fashion.

  The person pulled a notepad out of nowhere, clicking a pen and scribbling down a message in messy handwriting. "I am the Silver Falcon, the Elite Drag Racer!! :)) I am mute, so I use this!!! :)))))) I don't mind if you see me as a boy or girl! :D" Jeez, way to look really outgoing, huh? 

  She shrugged and walked past Silver Falcon, moving down the hall further. She decided to go check if she had any luggage or something in the lobby, pressing the down button on the elevator. And again. And again and again and again. It didn't work.

  "The elevator's busted, kid. Tough luck."

  Lily jumped and looked over her shoulder. A tall and pale-skinned boy stood leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He had ruffled ginger hair with his bangs dyed black, bright blue eyes gazing at her under the messy curtain of hair. Freckles were dusted on his cheeks, a bit of stubble on his chin. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his head with one hand, the other adjusting the popped collar of a dark gray vest customized with studs, being worn over a comfortable scarlet turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

  She looked a bit intimidated, and the other male perked up a little with an awkward smile. Whether it was fake or not was impossible to tell. "C'mon, don't look so scared. I ain't the guy I play in movies." His grin widened as he approached Lily with an outstretched hand. Man, he had a ton of rings on that hand, and that wasn't an exaggeration. "Watson Curtis, Elite Horror Movie Actor. I'm nothin' like the Wata guy in my movies, trust me. But hey! I heard aboutcha. Lily somethin', right? Lucky girl?"

  "Ah... hello, then. Yes, I am Lily Goode. I have seen one of your movies, and I apologize for being so scared, mister Watson." The lucky girl ducked her head and shook his hand, looking embarrassed. "Although, your movies are a bit... gory for my tastes. My sister enjoys them, however." 

  "Huh. Really? Neat." Watson chuckled, folding his arms in front of him after retracting his hand. "Nice to know!" A scowl darkened his face as two girls walked over to the elevator, barking gossip to each other like chihuahuas. " _Fuckin' **hell.** It's them."_  

  One girl ceased her high-pitched drawl for a moment, swiveling her head to make eye contact with Lily, a glare forming in her gaze. Her skin was as pale and smooth as porcelain, layers upon layers of cosmetics smeared in an acceptable fashion on her face. The basics of her appearance included light pink blush on her contoured cheeks, lipstick as red as blood making her lips stand out on her face like a splatter of blood on concrete. Eyes with contacts in to make them look violet were backed up with noticeable mascara, pinkish eye shadow, and winged eyeliner so pointed she could rip it off her face and kill a man with it. Hair dyed a deep reddish black flowed down her back and spilled over her shoulders like finely aged wine, making the black tube top and shorter than Hell skirt she wore almost blend in with it. Her overall appearance was fierce and aggressive. "Oh. Another new one! One who clearly doesn't know how to look feminine. What white, misogynistic trash!"

  "Ooh, yes. We should take her captive and show her how to be a real woman, not enslaved by the patriarchy!" The other girl had long, grayish black hair in an undercut, a couple of beaded ties binding her hair in a ponytail midway down the length. She laughed with an irritatingly high pitched cackle similar to a hyena, putting a pale hand with blue, manicured nails on one cheek. Bright green eyes taunted the insecure, lucky girl. "Are you ready to be made over, girly?"

  "Who-who are you people?!" Lily grunted, angrily tugging at a strand of hair. "You sound like hyenas, is it possible for someone to have such a high-pitched voice?!"

  "Ugh, shut up you actual trash. I bet you're heterosexual as well, aren't you? This is triggering me, Sissy!" Eyeliner girl whined, leaning on the other girl - apparently 'Sissy' - for support. "I'm Bess Cubis, the Elite Beautician, if it really matters to such an offensive, homophobic piece of trash like you..!"

  Sissy sighed. "Look what you did! You made Bess get upset! Ech. Sissy Cross, Elite Hairdresser. Go on, girlie. Go throw yourself in a dumpster, and maybe you'll finally feel at home!" 

  Freaked out, Lily inched out of the room and suddenly had a faceful of chest. She backed up, startled, and looked up. A massively tall person stood over her, having dull brown, buzzcut hair and brown eyes behind round framed glasses. He held several large textbooks under one arm, all seeming to be math related, and wore a white dress shirt with a tightly knotted red tie and black dress pants. What a boring guy. "...a-apologies, sir. You are..?" For how bulky he was, he looked surprisingly curvy, with an almost pear-shaped body.

  "Ah, I am sorry, miss." He adjusted his glasses and blinked, his dull tone never wavering to show any emotion, his apology sounding fake. "Matthew Algernon, the Elite Math Tutor. I take it you are Lily Goode, of the Good Luck title, yes?" The most unique trait about this man besides his curves was the rough, feminine sound to his voice, sounding like it belonged to someone else completely. "Quick question. What is the square root of five to the seventh power multiplied by negative seventeen?"

  "Yeah, I'm Lil-- woah, what? I-I--"

  "I see. Your first tutoring session will be tonight at 7:30. I will expect you to be on time and prepared." Matthew walked away, raising up the stack of books to be in both arms, holding them to his chest as he released one arm to open the top book and look inside. From the quick glance Lily got at the book, she grimaced at how complex the math in the textbook was and stepped away in the opposite direction.

  A new voice made the luckster jump. "Ah, iz ze computative guru imparting yet anozer neophyte vith a dilemma zimply on ze groundz zat most of ze populace doez not kno of mathematicz as labyrinthine as hiz knovledge of it?" 

  "Can you repeat that in English, sir?" 

  Lily turned around to face the person with a confused grimace. A whimsical grin was spread wide on the face of an olive-skinned boy with dull green eyes and a mess of medium-length blond hair on his head. He pushed up on the brim of glasses framed with violet, the dusty light reflecting off the lenses for a moment. "Ah, apologiez! I vaz mezzing viz you viz my complex knovledge of vording zingz, you zee?" A deep violet sweater vest covered the torso of a lighter colored dress shirt with a popped, loose collar, simple brown pants and dress shoes giving him a simple look aside from violet headphones hanging around his neck. "Ich heisse Ven Nacht. Ich bin die Elite Radio-Persönlichkeit. Und dir?" 

  "I'll assume that's a question on my name. Lily Goode, Good Luck, blah blah. Radio what now?"

  "Radio Perzonality. Apologiez, I tend to zlip into my native language at timez." He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing intricate looking black and white tattoos covering his arms. "Nonezelezz, you tsould get to meeting and greeting. You ztill have nine people to meet."

  "How do you know how many people I've seen so far?!"

  "I'm an ezper. Not really." On that note, the radio personality stepped into his room and locked the door. 

  Thankfully, there was a large room in the hotel that had the last handful of people she needed to meet. A few others were there, too, including Watson, the fashion freaks, and the Silver Falcon. "Yo, newbie! We 'eard a buncha 'bout ya. Lily pad, righ'?" The cheerful quip came from a boy with ruffled ginger hair and wide, green eyes. He wore a large, bright orange muffler around his neck on top of a black morph suit with only his head exposed. "Benjamin Twist 'ere, an' I'm da Elite Contortionist."

  "That accent is one I have never heard before in my life, sir Benjamin. Are you foreign?"

  Benjamin thumped his chest with one fist, nodding proudly. "Mmhmm! Straight outta da 'eart'a da Bronx. NYC, yo."

  "Benji, you're a precious little sing, but please allow tse rest of us to speak, alright, 'oney?" A girl with long, golden brown hair quietly mused with a slight French sound to her words. Icy blue eyes were hidden by her wavy bangs, the back of her hair layered and tied with white ribbons. She wore a cream colored dress with white and powder blue accents to it; a white bow sat at the middle of her waist attached to a ribbon on the dress, and she wore a long-sleeved powder blue sweater beneath it. Simple black shoes and white stockings made her look like a delicate girl from an old fashioned tale. "My name would be, ah, Stephanie Figaro. I am a, as you would say in my 'ome, le poème écrivain élite. A poem writer, to sose 'o do not know much about la langue française. Madame Rizonne, if you will?"

  A girl in a brown parka with short black hair nodded. Her skin appeared to be tanned, although that was its natural tone, and she had dark eyes. There wasn't much interesting about her appearance, although she appeared to be sweating. "Ah, too 'ot in here. One of you knows where the freezer is, no? I need to cool off as soon as possible, but whatever..." She brushed her forehead with her sleeve, dampening the cloth with her sweat. "Nimbus Rizonne, I'm an, er, Elite Snowboarder. Nice to meet you, but I got-ta go, seriously, it's too cazzo 'ot in 'ere!" Nimbus ran out of the room, only to run into a smaller group entering, consisting of Matthew and Ven. "Watch where you're walking, deficiente!" 

  "We are required to all group up in here, madam. You cannot leave either way."

  "Ah, mierda... whatever!"

  Loud whooping came from a pumped looking girl with hair dyed to look like a flame on her head. She had goggles nestled in the fiery bundle of hair on her forehead, and a red jumpsuit with red accents and sections of stretched out fabric between her legs, and between her arms and sides. "Hel~lo!!" Jumping up, she ran over to Lily, but tripped after the fabric between her legs got caught on a nail sticking out of the floor. "--oof! This does not prevent the great Whiplash from greeting her new friend!!" Grinning, she rolled over and got tangled up further in her suit, craning her head to look at the lucky girl. "Aaaaaanyways! Whiplash has already mentioned her name twice already, but her talent is still a mystery!" Whiplash loudly began to hum an odd tune. What is it? [It is a mystery.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fj7Vklv5nDk) "She is a wingsuit diver! The thing she is tangled up in is a wingsuit!" 

  "Hooligans, all of you!" A short and stout girl with a wild mass of curly blonde hair on her head muttered. The small lady was decked out in a yellow dress under a fur-lined white poncho and comfortable looking boots. Her bangs were being held back by a blue flower pin, the same color as her big eyes. "How about you let a real lady introduce herself, hmm?" 

  "Nah. Me first, you uptight Frozen character." quipped a boy with golden brown hair long enough to need to be tied back behind his head, the hair being the same hue as his eyes blinking behind frameless glasses. He absentmindedly scribbled in a small notebook with a pencil, intently looking down. "Xander Tristain, Elite Paranormal Investigator. Take the floor, little miss frosty."

  "Do not call me that, you imbecile!" The girl snapped, folding her arms and pouting. "Whatever... Autumn Svenson."

  Benjamin jumped into the conversation, flashing a grin, wink, and dual finger pistols. "More like Au _dumb_ , amirite, ladies?" Every single girl in the room groaned loudly. "...tough crowd." 

  "...like I was  _saying,_ listen up, you worthless sacks of flesh! Dig the earwax blocking your eardrums out of your sound holes." An arrogant smirk came onto her face. "I am nothing but the best of the best, the Elite Ice Sculptor!"

  "Nothing but? So you're good at nothing else. Literally nothing." Watson muttered, snickering.

_"Quiet!"_

  A timid looking girl poked her head out from behind Watson. "U-um, hello..?" _Huh? I thought everyone just met. They seem close already._ The confused thought passed through Lily's mind as the girl spoke. She had long black hair and pale skin, her bright cobalt eyes standing out on her small face. A petite white dress hung on her delicate looking body with a green knit jacket fastened over it by silver buttons. Behind her head, a large black bow held some of her hair back, a small green pin shaped like a cat head pinned to the ribbon. "I-I... I'm Michelle. M-Michelle Felix... Elite Cats-sitter." Each word sounded like it was filled to the brim with fright. 

  The final two people were short and very quiet. One was a girl, with reddish blonde hair cut to chin length peeking out from beneath a pink hat with cat ears on it. Her smile was a gentle, kind looking one, with warm brown eyes and a small grinning mouth. An oversized gray hoodie with white markings on the front similar to the belly of the character Totoro seemed to be all she wore, having very short black shorts and small sneakers on underneath. "Michael is very, very quiet. He wants me to say his name for everyone. I'm Gabriel Fields, and this is Michael woods!" Gabriel smiled and playfully nudged the slightly taller boy. "He's an Elite Botanist, and I'm an Elite Animator." 

  Michael had hair dyed to be a bluish green color and hazel eyes. His skin was fair and covered in freckles, a loose green sweater with the picture of a red rose on it and baggy jeans making up his simple outfit. He silently nodded, smiling. The two seemed even closer than Michelle and Watson seemed to be, already.

  A mysterious, disembodied voice rose out of nowhere in the large room all sixteen people sat in.

  "Alright, alright, party's over. Let's get down to business, shall we? Upupu."

  Oh. Shit. That bear. Why couldn't we get, like, a rabbit or talking chihuahua? Those are nice. But noooo, we get the shit-joebob-bear.


End file.
